


I Fought The War, But The War Won't Stop

by Mimiko (Samhain)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-14 22:36:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samhain/pseuds/Mimiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're always welcome in my house, Luna."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Fought The War, But The War Won't Stop

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this YEARS ago and I have no idea why I'm uploading it. Be aware that there are incredibly vague references to PTSD. Also, Luna is incredibly hard to write and I have so much respect for everyone who has ever done it.

The wards around Harry Potter’s home are strong enough to rival that of Hogwarts. Luna thinks that Mad Eye Moody will be proud.

Would be, she reminds herself.

But then the moment is gone and she doesn’t remember how she got there. Was it by floo? Did she apparate? She lets her arm hang off of the side of Harry’s couch, and considers that she may have walked through the front door.

That she was even able to enter at all, she knows, is a testament to her standing in Harry’s eyes. Even Neville, she thinks, would have to knock. 

She likes Harry’s home. He doesn’t have a sense for decorating -- he told her once that he grew up in a closet. She understands why there is an empty room, with a couch against the wall.

She feels vulnerable too.

His feet pound on the stairs. He’s running, she thinks. Just like me.

He doesn’t see her at first. He walks to the window and the night breeze ruffles his hair.

“Why is this open?” He asks aloud.

Oh, she thinks. It was the window.

“It must have been closer than the door,” she explains.

Harry spins around, and his eyes lock on Luna’s. She can see them, even in the dark. They’re green, and concerned. She’s happy that Harry Potter worries about her. Sometimes she forgets how to do it for herself.

“Luna, are you alright?” He asks, moving closer, slowly, as though she were a frightened cat.

“I can’t remember,” she tells him.

He’s closer now, and she gives him a welcoming smile. When his hand touches her face, her hair, somewhere between her cheek and her forehead, she thinks that she couldn’t have apparated. She doesn’t have her wand.

Their eyes still have contact, and Luna sees the future.

“One day, I won’t be able to come here.” she says.

“You’re always welcome in my house, Luna.”

She sees babies and travel and sorrow. Memories fading and nargles moving into the space they occupy in the moment, stealing everything piece by piece. She does not tell him this.

Harry Potter knows well of change.

Instead, she captures his hand with her own.

“Your house is never dark.”

Harry picks her up, awkwardly, and carries her to his room. Where there is enough light to see his eyes and she can sleep without waking up in a cold, dark dungeon. Her hands won’t let go of the one that saved her, for fear of falling back.


End file.
